


Fortuitous

by akaatsuki



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, MY BEST FRIEND'S BROTHER IS THE ONE FOR ME, Pining, YE~AH YE~AH YE~AH YEA~H
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-10-13 18:41:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10519569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akaatsuki/pseuds/akaatsuki
Summary: Rei is infinitely more beautiful than Ritsu, and Mao feels horrible for accepting the fact. There must besomethingfueling this insatiable lust---is it the fact that Rei is older than him? Or that he simply has a seductiveness about him that Ritsu doesn't? Or because Maoknowsit's wrong, and that only makes the fire in his stomach grow higher?He sighs miserably, staring down at his plate, and at Ritsu dozing off, and at Rei---gorgeous, perfect,flawlessRei---and decides that he'sdefinitelynot making it through his second year unscathed.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i was fucking coerced into shipping this im so furious right now THIS IS LITERALLY 4K+ WORDS WHY IS THIS THE _ONE_ FIC THAT I ACTUALLY MANAGE TO FINISH DON'T EVEN TALK TO ME RIGHT NOW

“ _Maa-kun._ ”

Mao blinks once, firmly, perking his head back up and tearing his gaze so it lays upon Ritsu once more, rather than _behind_ him, staring into space.

“…Sorry, Ritchan,” he apologizes quietly, stuffing his face with another bite of his meal.

Ritsu puts on a mocking pout, taking a sip of his cold drink and pretending as though it didn’t matter to him. Though he isn’t fond of it either, Mao is grateful that the heat seems to be draining Ritsu’s energy much more quickly than usual, so Ritsu doesn’t seem to be interested in interrogating his strange behavior further. Which, of course, is perfect for his current predicament, as Mao could hardly even _begin_ to consider himself a decent liar.

The downside, however, is that the heat is _also_ getting to Ritsu’s older brother.

Staring just past Ritsu’s shoulder gives him direct view of the rounded table where UNDEAD sits. As always, Koga is loudly complaining(as of now, about the heat) while Adonis sips his iced drink quietly, and Kaoru seems to only be riling up Koga’s fury even further, an amused grin upon his lips. Looking past all of them, his eyes focus upon the _real_ spectacle: Rei Sakuma, leaning back comfortably against the cushion of his seat, the straw of his drink resting between loose lips.

The lids of his beautiful, almond-shaped eyes are heavy, and he observes the rest of his unit for a few moments longer, before appearing to lose interest altogether---likely due to the heat of the outdoors(even though their table is shaded by a large umbrella). He places his glass back upon the table, and Mao pays mind to the way his long, slender fingers reach up and flip a small portion of his dark hair away from his face. Leaning once more against the back of the chair, he tilts his chin to his shoulder and lets his head fall slightly, eyelids fluttering shut and lips parted to exhale a soft breath. Though he himself loathes it, he momentarily thanks the heat for adorning that porcelain face with beads of sweat, and for bringing a visible blush to his cheeks. His black hair, sweat-slicked and dampened, clings to the outline of his face.

Mao’s mouth suddenly feels horribly dry, and he attempts to place his lips upon the straw of his drink, missing once and hitting his nose, and then managing to correct himself the second time, hoping that Ritsu didn’t notice. The chill of the beverage, however, still does nothing to cure the heat pooling in both his face and the pit of his stomach, and he worries his bottom lip, trying desperately to tear his eyes away again before Ritsu takes notice.

 _There’s no way I’m going to survive my second year,_ he thinks to himself, miserably, _I might as well lie down and accept my death now._

He attempts to bury himself in his meal once again, looking at Ritsu, who looks completely ready to fall asleep at any moment---and, guiltily, Mao confesses to himself that the thought of it overjoys him, as it would allow him to stare without shame. Just the thought alone makes his heart skip a beat and begin to race. _I’m disgusting,_ he thinks sourly, _what am I even doing, thinking like this?_

The only thing is that, no matter how hard he tries to do so, there’s absolutely no way to expel Rei from his thoughts. Lately, he’s frequently tossing and turning in his bed in a feeble attempt at lulling himself to sleep and bringing his conflicting thoughts to a halt. However, even in his _sleep_ he’s plagued with those teenage fantasies that could definitely never become reality; Rei seated in his lap with his fingers tangled in Mao’s hair, kissing him hard, hands gliding down his chest and pushing up his shirt, going lower, lower, deft fingers working his belt off of him and…

 _Awful,_ Mao’s mind screams at him furiously, and he takes another long sip of his drink to bring himself back to reality, _you're awful. You can't keep doing this._

Yet, even despite his mind’s protests, the thoughts still flood him, and his body still betrays him. Out of all the people Trickstar had to go to for mentoring, why did it have to be _Rei Sakuma?_ He can't help the fact that he's so hopelessly attracted to him, that he only half-mindedly pays attention to the dancing lesson and focuses more on his instructor, whose body moves to music like it's an instrument itself. Trickstar’s routines are never revolved around lust, but UNDEAD is a unit that uses their beauteous members to their fullest, and Mao has never shared the fact with Ritsu that he's in possession of countless videos of their performances. Countless videos of Rei, lustful eyes shimmering and lips curled into a devilish smirk, hips rolling and hands sliding down his sides, as if mocking what the audience is unable to touch for themselves.

Rei is infinitely more beautiful than Ritsu, and Mao feels horrible for accepting the fact. There must be _something_ fueling this insatiable lust---is it the fact that Rei is older than him? Or that he simply has a seductiveness about him that Ritsu doesn't? Or because Mao _knows_ it's wrong, and that only makes the fire in his stomach grow higher?

He sighs miserably, staring down at his plate, and at Ritsu dozing off, and at Rei---gorgeous, perfect, _flawless_ Rei---and decides that he's _definitely_ not making it through his second year unscathed.

…

His heart races as he stands outside the door of the light music club, palms sweating and legs shaking as he swallows thickly. There's absolutely no reason why he should feel so nervous; perhaps it's the guilt that he made up some half-assed excuse to see Rei, planning to ask him about their practice schedule just for a chance to hear that sweet, drawling voice of his, and to feel those burning, scarlet eyes upon him.

Mao takes a deep breath and opens the door, stepping inside. His eyes scan the room for any sight of his upperclassman, and suddenly he feels a horrible disappointment stabbing at his chest as he registers that the room is empty. Rei’s coffin is open, lid leaning against its side, and Mao assumes that it means that, too, is empty. Sighing heavily, he wonders if he really has to turn and leave after working up the nerve to make up an excuse and come here, a dense feeling weighing his feet like stones.

His eyes open wide when he hears a sudden noise; it's a sleepy, quiet mumble, a soft yet sonorous voice emitting from the side of the room. Mao realizes immediately that, even though the coffin is uncharacteristically open, someone is _inside._ His heart kickstarting, he bites his lip, wondering if he has the guts to walk closer and gaze upon Rei, who is likely fast asleep.

And, of course, the temptation to lay eyes upon Rei’s sleeping face overrules any logic left within his mind.

His legs shake as he walks closer, stopping at the very edge of the coffin and staring, unconsciously kneeling down to stop himself from straining his neck. His breath catches in his throat, and he can _hear_ the pounding of his heart in his ears.

Unsurprisingly to him, Rei is infinitely as stunning as he is when he's awake---if not _more._ His hands are folded upon his chest, lying flat on his back, and Mao commends him for keeping up his vampire persona to the bitter end. His pale skin is completely flawless, long eyelashes resting upon his cheeks and beautiful, plush lips parted slightly. The steady rise and fall of his chest is hypnotizing, and before Mao realizes what he's doing, he sees his own hand reach out, gently brushing aside a stray lock of hair from his face.

He freezes, shocked at his own absent-minded action, terrified that he might've awoken the other---but Rei remains still, breathing steady as always. His hand hovers before his sleeping expression, trembling in anticipation, the risk and tension of the situation sending his heart rate through the roof, and yet also causing a wave of eagerness to crash into him, knocking the air out of his lungs. Against his instincts and against every sensible thought in his head, he brings his hand just slightly lower, the flat of his thumb resting upon Rei’s lower lip. Agonizingly slow, Mao ghosts his thumb across the plushness of his lips, and feels the chill go directly down his spine.

He thanks whichever higher power is listening that Rei appears to be, like his younger brother, a heavy sleeper.

Mao wonders with bated breath if, should he let his lips touch Rei’s for the shortest of moments, it would be caught. The thought frightens him and excites him at the same time, and he can feel a shudder through his entire body as he actually _considers_ it---but, as if to scold him for such a perverse idea, his phone vibrates in his pocket, snapping him from his daze.

Quickly, guilt searing through his mind, Mao fishes for it, pulling it out, unlocking it, and scanning the text from Hokuto. Even so, he barely has the consciousness to comprehend what he's being told. He scowls, closing out of the message bitterly, about to shove it back into his pocket and just leave before things escalate further, when something catches his eye and makes him stare a few moments longer.

The camera.

 _No,_ his mind reacts instantly, _absolutely not. You couldn't possibly be_ any _creepier right now, Mao. You absolutely need to_ leave.

Rather than listening to reason and just locking the screen, he taps on the icon regardless and stares at Rei’s sleeping figure on the phone screen, emerald eyes blown wide with both horror and disgust as his own uncontrolled actions. His thumb hovers over the button, shaking with fear and an overwhelming rush of adrenaline. It's a short, simple action, and yet he can't help but be unable to push his finger down any further, knowing that if he crossed this line, he'd _really_ be in trouble.

 _It's just one push away,_ he tells himself, _one tap, and then you can leave, and nobody will ever have to know._

He holds his breath, thumb lowering, closer, _closer,_ and---

“---What are you doing?”

Mao jumps with a startled yelp, shaky hands dropping his phone and letting it clatter to the floor, losing his balance entirely from the sudden shock and falling backwards, hitting the ground immediately. A thousand thoughts rush into his head at once, all panicked and terrified, and he registers that he's been _caught,_ he's been caught and someone's about to stare at him in horror, and probably wake Rei up and _tell_ him, and…

“Isara?”

Mao turns his head to see Adonis Otogari standing in the doorway, staring innocently at him, head tilted in confusion at the reaction and brows knitted together in concern.

“Are you alright? Did I startle you? I apologize.”

Mao scrambles to his feet, snatching his phone from the ground and locking it, shoving it into his pocket and trying to present himself more professionally in an attempt to mask what had happened.

“O-Otogari,” he stammers, a hand on his hip as the other runs through his hair with a heavy sigh, “y-yeah, uh…you really scared me there. I wasn't expecting that…”

“I apologize,” Adonis says again, looking from Mao to the coffin, expression still curious. “Were you intending to ask Sakuma-senpai something?”

“Uh, yeah,” Mao replies after a moment’s hesitation, hoping that Adonis doesn't notice the trembling of his legs and hands.

At the very least, he knows that Adonis is too oblivious to have any clue about what he's just been doing, and for that, Mao is eternally grateful.

“I saw that he was asleep, so, um, I was arguing with myself about whether I should wake him up or not,” he explains on a whim, “but I think it'd be pointless to wake him up over something so small, so I'll just come back later!”

Adonis stares a moment longer, blinks once, and nods quietly, clearly confused by Mao’s demeanor, but not enough to question it. _Thank god,_ Mao thinks to himself, knowing he'd lucked out; if it were Koga, he'd have been screwed. And so, Mao wastes no time in shuffling past Adonis and quickly walking into the hall, hands shoved snugly into his pockets as he instinctively hurries to the nearest restroom, desperate for a moment of privacy to recollect himself before encountering anyone else.

He pushes the door open, taking a stall and sitting down, immediately dropping his face into his hands and letting out a heavy sigh, catching his breath. His palms are clammy and his heartbeat is still a roaring drum in his ears, chest heaving for air. Mind a battlefield between conflicting feelings of burning guilt and painful arousal, Mao wonders momentarily if he might actually pass out in the next few moments. His uniform pants are uncomfortably tight, and he scolds himself repeatedly in his mind, _disgusting, disgusting, disgusting._

A few moments pass as he begins to collect himself, opening his eyes and staring up at the blank ceiling, cursing himself for having attempted such a stupid, irresponsible thing in the first place. Not only is Rei his upperclassman, but he’s his best friend’s _brother,_ and Mao is supposed to be a dignified, obedient member of the student council. The student council isn’t even supposed to _associate_ with the “Oddballs of Yumenosaki,” known troublemakers and thorns in their side for years now; and Mao already has _enough_ trouble running around with Trickstar.

_Which probably means I shouldn’t be creepily stalking Rei Sakuma; but that’s something I already knew from the beginning._

He suddenly remembers the presence of his phone, and thinks about opening the recent text from Hokuto again now that he's in a more focused mindset. Taking a deep breath, he withdraws his phone from his pocket, thumbing the password and unlocking it. His breath is caught in his throat again as he is greeted with the still-opened camera app, and another strong, sudden surge of dizziness hits him when he lays his eyes on the small preview in the bottom-left corner of the screen.

A picture of Rei Sakuma, sleeping soundly within his coffin.

…

Today is a day on his schedule in which he stays after school not for student council work, but for Trickstar’s miniature training program with UNDEAD. A day in which Makoto goes off with Koga, Hokuto goes off with the Aoi twins, and Subaru with the producer, leaving Mao alone with Rei. The very concept is hard _enough_ for him to grasp, and his wandering fantasies don’t make it any easier to do so. He’s imagined Rei countless times during their brief breaks from practice; imagined his hands wandering down his body, Rei’s sweet lips upon his neck, beautiful voice singing him praises…

_…Focus, Mao._

The guilt of the picture he’d taken still eats away at his mind, but it hasn’t stopped him from staring at it at night, alone in his room, wondering how he’d even managed to get it. Before bed, he stares at his phone screen and wonders what would have happened had he done what his wild fantasies pressured him to do; if he had leaned down and stolen a chaste kiss from those lips, if he had reached out and touched him further, if he had woken him up and confessed everything then and there. Of course, the sensible part of his mind(which is rapidly decreasing in size and consistency) tells him that he’s _beyond_ lucky that he _didn’t_ do any of those things.

Still, however, it’s pleasing to imagine.

“Mao-kun,” Rei greets him as he walks into the light music club, and the voice both snaps him from his thoughts and sends a rush of new ones into his head at once. “How are you?”

“Fine,” Mao manages to force out, shaking hands stuffed into his pocket as he tries desperately to avoid hiding his gaze. The last thing he wants to do so soon after such a close call previously is cause suspicion.

Rei, like himself, usually changes into a different, more suitable outfit for the occasion: a loose shirt and sweatpants to make it easier to practice their routine. Especially considering the intensity of Trickstar’s performance style in comparison to UNDEAD, more comfortable clothing is a great advantage for extensive practice.

However, things are _much_ different today, and Mao takes notice of it _immediately._ Rei stands before Mao in his unit’s outfit, fur-lined coat and hat slipped off and set upon a nearby chair, leaving him in his tight-fitting undershirt and leather pants. The fabric of the shirt hugs his sides and defines the curve of his waist, tight pants stressing the beautiful shape of his legs. _This_ is _definitely_ not something that Mao was prepared for, but even so, he attempts to mask his surprise.

“Uh, Sakuma-senpai,” he worries his bottom lip as he looks upon him, “what's with the uniform?”

“Ah, that is because I seemed to have misplaced my usual attire for our practices,” Rei hums placidly, “but I'd still rather avoid dirtying my uniform, so I suppose my performance attire will suffice.”

 _This is unfair!_ Mao’s mind shrieks in a panic as he watches Rei lower himself into a stretch, and desperately tries to avoid staring. Swallowing thickly, he forces himself to walk further into the room and stand next to him, taking a deep breath and starting his own preparation stretches. He curses the fact that even just _standing_ next to Rei now makes him dizzyingly unfocused.

Mao is relieved when he makes it through the entire ten minutes of stretching unscathed, and now comes the actual _practice,_ which he _really_ doesn't want to do today, _especially_ when he's still so worked up over the person currently instructing him. He drags himself through the first fifteen minutes nonetheless, however, and finds that perhaps if he focuses more on his feet and his routine and _doesn't_ actively think about Rei fucking him against a wall, he can actually be quite productive.

All that productivity seems to be thrown out the window, though, when he looks up and catches a glance at Rei. Small beads of sweat have formed upon his skin and his shirt clings to his torso, hair bouncing with every movement and ruby eyes shimmering. _It must be way more exhausting wearing leather pants,_ Mao thinks to himself, biting his lip, _and way more hot._ And though he tries to return back to his routine and tear his gaze away, he suddenly _can’t_ take his eyes off of Rei’s waist, the beautiful glistening of his scarlet irises, and the enticing curves of his thighs.

In the next moment, Mao’s body freezes up as he missteps, a soundless gasp escaping his lips as he crashes to the ground in a heap.

Rei looks down at him in surprise at the sudden slip-up, walking to the chair and picking up the remote, turning the music off as Mao grudgingly drags himself to his feet. He grabs the nearby towel and wipes the sweat from his forehead, sighing heavily and dreading the incoming question.

“Mao-kun, what's going on?” Rei asks curiously, something dancing faintly behind the depths of his eyes that makes his stomach churn, “you seem quite distracted today.”

Mao hesitates, throwing himself down upon one of the chairs and catching his breath, attempting to cool his body down before saying anything too rash. Rei stares at him for several moments, seeming to be expecting an answer from him, and though Mao attempts to force even a short “ _I’m fine_ ” past his lips, he says nothing. The elder of the two waits just a bit longer for him before deciding to break the silence himself.

“…Why don’t you go and get us some waters from the vending machine, Mao-kun?” he sighs simply, crossing his arms, “let’s take a break.”

 _Leaving the room would be best,_ Mao thinks to himself as he nods quietly, rising from his seat to make his way towards the door, _anything to save me from that embarrassment._

He notes the emptiness of the hallway as he shoves his hands into his pockets and sets a steady pace, headed towards the nearest machine. His fingers toy with the coins in his pockets and his teeth worry his bottom lip in an attempt to distract himself from the conflicting feelings within his chest. Mao wishes that he could just book it from here and run home so that he wouldn’t have to go back to the club room and face the shame of what had happened, but, knowing this isn’t an option, he sighs and continues walking.

Upon arriving at the vending machine, he shoves the money into the slot and presses the button, repeating the process once more and collecting the two bottles, noticing the trembling of his hands as he _knows_ what comes next: returning to the club room and trying to make an excuse as to why he’d just shorted out in front of Rei. He sighs heavily, resting his forehead against the machine and cursing his ill luck and incredulous stupidity, before finally tearing his feet out of their place and making his way back to the club room.

He pauses before turning into the open doorway, taking a deep breath to settle his nerves and ease the tension in his shoulders, trying to appear as though nothing were wrong so perhaps he may get away with another half-assed excuse.

 _It’s useless,_ he thinks to himself, grudgingly. _I’m not going to make it through this one._

“Sakuma-senpai,” he says aloud as he walks through the doorway, “I got us some water, s---”

Mao’s voice cuts out akin to a plug being pulled on a radio, eyes widening as he stares at his upperclassman, who is seated casually in one of the chairs in the studio. The bottled waters slip from his sweaty palms, clunking onto the floor. In Rei’s hands, to the second year’s utter horror, is _his_ _phone._ Rei’s eyes shift to look from the screen to Mao, expression completely unreadable, and Mao can feel his stomach flipping and churning, heat rising to his face as he flushes with immediate humiliation. The room feels smaller all of the sudden, as if the walls are closing in on him, and his knees wobble as every thought within his head is flushed out, leaving his mind completely blank.

 _The picture,_ he instantly thinks to himself in absolute mortification, _he saw the picture._

Oh.

Oh _no._

He curses himself, wondering how he could’ve been so stupid as to have leave his phone not only in the _room,_ but _unlocked_ as well.

“S…Sakuma-senpai,” Mao chokes out, voice cracking with shame and fear, hands held in front of his chest, balled into tight, quivering fists. “I…that’s…”  

Rei looks at Mao a moment longer before he turns back to the screen of the phone, as if Mao hadn’t walked in at all. He tilts his head to a certain angle, changing his expression, and taps the button with the index finger of his free hand. Mao stares in shock as Rei then locks the screen, stands from where he was sitting, and walks towards the doorway where the Trickstar member still stands, petrified.

Slipping the phone back into Mao’s hands, he clasps them within his own for a moment, leaning forwards and locking his lips onto the underclassman’s.

Mao’s eyes widen in shock, feeling as though every muscle in his body has suddenly frozen. Rei’s lips are against his, _moving_ against his, hands still holding Mao’s, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. Before he can even fully _register_ that fact, completely expecting this to be some sort of fever dream because Rei would _never,_ he's pulling away, leaving only a few centimeters between them.

“ _Sweet boy,_ ” he murmurs, voice soft and sweet and _seductive,_ his breath hot on Mao’s lips and causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand to attention. “Such a good boy, Mao-kun…”

Mao hasn't even a moment afterwards to recollect himself before Rei is suddenly on him again, hands raising to hold his face, giving him leverage to delve his tongue past his lips. His long fingers tangle themselves in Mao’s hair as he pulls him closer, kissing him with a fierce intensity that sends shivers down his spine. Mao, upon overcoming his initial shock, finds himself melting immediately against Rei, reaching up to extend his arms over the broadness of his shoulders. He lets Rei explore his mouth without the slightest of protests, a small, pleased hum having been stifled by their kiss.

Rei finally separates their lips after what feels like an eternity to Mao, and Mao gasps for air, face flushed and sweat slicking his skin, eyes blown wide as he stares up at the upperclassman. Rei’s cheeks are colored as well, Mao observes, and he stares down upon him with something mischievous glistening in his eyes, a sharp tongue darting across his lips. If his knees weren't _already_ about to give out, they _definitely_ would in the next few moments, as Rei now gazed down at him lustfully.

Mao opens his mouth in some feeble attempt to get words to come out, but only gapes up at his upperclassman with a shocked expression, voice stuck in his throat. Rei suddenly slips out of his grasp with a pleased, devilish smile upon his lips, taking care to brush his body against Mao’s as he glides past him and through the doorway. Mao doesn’t even make an effort to try and pursue him---he can’t, not when his entire body is still frozen in place and his mind is swirling so immensely that he can’t piece any of his thoughts together. The first coherent thought that comes to mind after several moments of standing like a statue is the phone clasped tightly in one hand.

Shakily, Mao’s thumb unlocks the screen, getting the password wrong two times in his dazed state. An application is already open, he notices immediately, and the pounding of his heartbeat in his ears grows infinitely louder as he registers it as his contacts.

A new page of information and a newly-taken photo stares back at him, labeled with the name _Rei Sakuma._

**Author's Note:**

> if i get some decent kudos + comments..............i'll.....write a sequel..........


End file.
